


The Intrepid Ned Leeds and the Case of the Missing Peter

by abrightgrayworld



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: (but like a funnier kind of cracky version), Detective Noir, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humour, I swear to god I haven't been so inspired to write fic in years, at the end because I love these three nerds and their relationships so much, yet another thing my brain came up with for this fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 11:12:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11942961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abrightgrayworld/pseuds/abrightgrayworld
Summary: "“What the hell are you doing, Leeds?” said a voice right into my ear. I squealed and jumped, spinning around.There she was in all her wild-haired, sardonic glory. Michelle Jones, best friend number two, love of Peter Parker’s life, and one of the smartest people I knew. The partner I needed to solve the mystery of Peter’s absence.She squinted at me and her face fell into the flattest, most powerful look of I-can’t-believe-I-associate-with-you-you-giant-fucking-dork I had ever been on the receiving end of. “You read that noir mystery novel I gave you, didn’t you.”"--Peter Parker is missing. The intrepid Ned Leeds and his grudging partner, Michelle Jones, are on the case.





	The Intrepid Ned Leeds and the Case of the Missing Peter

**Author's Note:**

> An alternate title: "There's only a letter's difference between Ned and nerd." :D 
> 
> I can't stop writing stuff for this fandom?? I haven't been this inspired to write fic in years, ahh. I know I have my other fic still going and that I only updated it a few days ago, but this came into my head in the shower and I just HAD to write it. 
> 
> This is my first time writing, like, comedy, and I'm proud of it; I think this is the most in-character fic I've written for them (at least I hope it is!) I hope you enjoy, and kudos and comments are my life-blood and would be greatly appreciated!

The dark underworld known as high school is a seedy place. Underneath its friendly veneer of education, you can see the exhaustion on students and teachers’ faces alike, the shadows in their souls as they struggle valiantly for purpose, for validation, for a way to trudge through the drudgery of mundane life.

Spend enough time there, and you have a sixth sense for when things go wrong.

I knew that something was wrong the second I walked into homeroom and Peter Parker, superhero extraordinaire and best friend number one, wasn’t there.

I tipped my hat lower over my forehead, a sinking in my gut as I surveyed the classroom. Flash Thompson gave me an ugly sneer as my gaze passed over him. Cindy Moon gave me a little wave, and I waved back coolly, tipping my chin in hello. Betty Brant graced me with a shy smile, and I smiled back goofily before remembering the situation and returning to my surveillance. I glanced through the doorway into the hallway.

No sign of Peter Parker.

Troubling.

I waited for class to begin, intending to question my teacher about it—she always had been suspicious, that one—but was thwarted when a substitute teacher walked in. He put on a documentary and most of the class promptly put their heads down to sleep.

Not me, though. My thoughts whirled as I tried to remember if Peter had said anything to me about today, but no, he hadn’t. I scowled and reached into my pocket for my phone, before remembering the tragic incident of this morning.

* * *

_My face shadowed, I watched grimly as my phone bobbed sadly in the bowl of milk and Froot Loops in front of me._

_“Ned?” my mother called, walking in. “Why is it so dark in here? Why are the blinds closed?” She stopped short, a dangerous edge entering her tone. “Why is your phone in your cereal?”_

_Wherever I went, I could never escape trouble. No, trouble always found me._

* * *

I winced at the memory and shook it away, returning to the mystery. I couldn’t rely on my tech to solve this one. No, this case would have to be solved on sheer brain power, muscle, and will. This was a case for the intrepid Ned Leeds.

But I couldn’t do it alone.

When lunchtime rolled around, I stalked the halls towards the cafeteria, face hidden under my hat, warily scanning faces. Any of these students could know something. Any of them could have had to do with his disappearance. But also, I was searching for a specific person. Someone who was brilliant, shrewd, dangerous. Someone who knew Peter Parker almost as well as I did and who would want to solve this case just as much.

The cafeteria was packed with teenage bodies. I scanned the room, still searching, my eyes narrowed. My target was good at sneaking, good at not being found; my task would take every ounce of skill I had.

“What the hell are you doing, Leeds?” said a voice right into my ear. I squealed and jumped, spinning around. She had found me, it seemed.

There she was in all her wild-haired, sardonic glory. Michelle Jones, best friend number two, love of Peter Parker’s life, and one of the smartest people I knew. The partner I needed to solve the mystery of Peter’s absence.

She squinted at me and her face fell into the flattest, most powerful look of _I-can’t-believe-I-associate-with-you-you-giant-fucking-dork_ I had ever been on the receiving end of. “You read that noir mystery novel I gave you, didn’t you.”

I shifted my eyes and ignored her disbelief. “Miss Jones, there is a case of the utmost urgence—uh, hang on.” I frowned as my iPod, which had been loudly playing the smooth jazz playlist I had uploaded right before leaving home this morning, started playing Burn from Hamilton. Luckily, I switched it back before it killed the vibe.

MJ eyed the iPod, even more unimpressed.

“As I was saying,” I said, lowering my voice. “Miss Jones, I have shocking news. Peter Parker wasn’t here this morning.”

An expression flashed over her face so fast I almost missed it. She had, for a second, looked amused. And then she frowned.

“Wasn’t here?”

I nodded, looking around for eavesdroppers. “I think he’s vanished. That something’s happened to him. I don’t know where he is, and I _always_ know. Do you know anything?”

MJ was still frowning. “I don’t. And I don’t think there are any alerts about Spidey sightings,” she said, pulling out her phone to check.

I nodded again. “Something smells fishy, and it’s not just the cafeteria’s mystery meat.”

“Oh my _god,_ ” MJ groaned, rolling her eyes. She sighed. “I texted him, but it doesn’t look like he’s on his phone. Okay, what are we going to do? We have to find him.”

“Yes, we do,” I said thoughtfully, furrowing my brow to ponder. “We should start by talking to the higher-ups. The rulers of this little town. They may be able to tell us something.”

MJ looked like she wanted to bang her head into a locker, but she shrugged. “Fine. Lead the way, Leeds.” She paused, and then eyed my hat with disdain. “But lose the fedora. You look creepier than normal.” As if I would. The fedora was an essential part of this mystery.

The walk down to the principal’s office was somber. I was lost in my thoughts, wondering where Peter Parker could have disappeared. MJ was—sketching?

“What?” she said, unfazed by my glare. “You have a great crisis face going right now.”

I huffed and pushed open the door to the office. The secretary, Mr. Manson, looked up, his bored expression not changing as he took us in.

“Afternoon, sir,” I said, tipping my hat. MJ gave a lazy wave in greeting.

“’Sup, Hank,” she said.

“What do you want?” he sighed, not bothering to react to her use of his first name. “Principal Morita isn’t available today, so you’ll have to come back tomorrow—”

“No, sir,” I said, scrutinizing him. I swung a leg up onto a chair and leaned my elbow on it suavely. “We need to know where Peter Parker is today.”

“I’m not allowed to give you information about students’ whereabouts if they’re not in school, young man,” Mr. Manson said, his eyes already off us. “Assuming he even called in today.”

“Sir, please, we just need to know why he’s not in school.”

“Use your phones, then. You’re young, aren’t you?”

“Sir,” I exclaimed, “You’re obstructing a case! You’re obstructing justice—”

“Okay, we’re done here,” MJ interrupted, grabbing me by the elbow and hauling me away. “Nice chatting, Hank!”

We heard Mr. Manson let out a long sigh as the door closed.

“MJ—I mean, Miss Jones, we’re not going to solve the case if we don’t make some enemies!” I hissed.

“I’d rather not get expelled, thanks,” MJ said. She pulled out her phone again. “Still nothing from Peter.”

“Lunch is almost over,” I said. “I can ask our teachers where he is, but if they don’t know, we don’t have a lead. We need to find someone else now.”

MJ hummed. “We have decathlon today. We can try to find Mr. Harrington and ask him if he knows?”

It was unlikely he would, but it was something. “Let’s go,” I said.

Mr. Harrington was sitting at his desk when we got to his room, shuffling some flashcards. He looked up and smiled when he saw us.

“MJ, Ned,” he greeted. “Didn’t think I’d see you before decathlon.”

“Mr. Harrington,” I said menacingly. I turned off the lights. Ahead of me, MJ turned on his yellow desk lamp and turned it onto his face. She took out her sketchbook.

Mr. Harrington didn’t look fazed, didn’t even blink. Interesting. This man must have gone through a lot of hell in his time in high school. He was acting like this was just a normal day.

“Tell us everything you know about Peter Parker,” I demanded, making my voice as gruff as possible.

“Peter? He’s a really smart kid. One of the best decathlon team members we have, when he’s here.” He chuckled.

“Cut the crap, Mr. Harrington, sir,” I snarled. MJ moved behind me, still scribbling. “We want to know where he is. He wasn’t here today.”

“Oh, well, of course he wasn’t, he was—” Mr. Harrington’s face froze as he glanced behind me quickly, and he cleared his throat. “What I mean is, I don’t know.”

I looked at him, confused. What had just happened?

Something wasn’t right.

I turned around and saw MJ still blissfully scribbling, like she hadn’t looked up once. She caught my gaze and raised her eyebrows in question. I frowned, glancing between her and Mr. Harrington, as something occurred to me.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Harrington,” I said abruptly. “See you at practice!”

MJ switched off the lamp and turned on the lights, and we walked out of the room. I whirled on her as soon as we were out.

“You traitor.”

“Excuse me?” she said.

“You know where Peter is,” I accused. “You’re a part of the scheme. Of course, it all makes sense! You would never help me out otherwise.”

MJ sighed deeply, exasperated. “Yes, good job, you caught me,” she said sarcastically. “I’ve trapped Peter in my basement against his will.”

I gasped in horror. “Really?”

“Okay, that’s it,” MJ snapped. She grabbed the fedora off my head.

“No!” I wailed. She had outsmarted me. She had won.

_Peter…I’ve failed you._

MJ tapped her foot. “Are you done?”

I sighed and accepted defeat. “Yeah. Seriously, where is Peter?”

MJ smiled enigmatically, giving me back the hat. “We’ll go to him after decathlon practice.”

Three and a half hours later, MJ lead the way to Peter’s place. She got her key out—May had given both of us a key to the apartment after she’d learned that we knew about Peter being Spider-man, in case he needed help and she couldn’t be there—and opened the door.

Peter was lying on the couch, so thoroughly bundled in blankets that only his flushed face was poking out. There was a garbage can full of tissues near the foot of the couch, and a half-full bowl of soup on the coffee table. He looked pale and pathetic.

“Hey, guys,” he rasped, and then coughed harshly. 

“Hey, dweeb,” MJ said, her face softening into a smile. She dropped onto a spot on the couch near his head and kissed his forehead, causing his face to light up in a brilliant, dopey grin.

“You’re sick?” I exclaimed. I turned to MJ. “You knew?”

“Of course I did,” she scoffed. “I was surprised you didn’t, since Peter literally messaged us this morning, but I figured something must have happened to your phone.”

My mind flashed back to the Great Cereal Incident.

“Sometimes, tragedy strikes when you least expect it,” I said sorrowfully. MJ rolled her eyes.

“Wait,” I said. “So why did Mr. Harrington not just tell me? And if you knew, why didn’t _you_ just tell me? Why lie and play along?”

MJ smiled a shark's smile. “I made a face behind you when you were talking to him and he figured out not to say anything. He’s known me long enough to let me have my fun,” she said. “And why didn’t I tell you? Aside from the great crisis faces I got from you, Mr. Manson, and Mr. Harrington?” Her smile stretched into an evil grin. “I have, like, two years worth of blackmail material on you just from today. I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

I stared at her, unable to respond.

Michelle Jones. No one could beat her devious mind.

“Okay, am I missing something?” Peter asked, trying to get up but settling back down with a content sigh when MJ started running her fingers through his hair.

“Oh, boy,” MJ said, grin still on her face. She took out her phone with her free hand. “You’re not going to believe the videos I got of Leeds today.”

When had she even taken videos? I was going to protest, but what would that do, really? Besides, MJ and Peter had both started laughing, glee on their faces, and I didn’t have the heart to stop them.

“Sit down, Ned. We can’t mock you properly without you here,” MJ said, shifting over so that Peter’s head was in her lap and opening up more space next to her. I gave up with a huff of laughter and joined them.

Another case solved, I thought, a warm feeling in my chest as I sat with my best friends.

All in a day’s work for the intrepid Ned Leeds. 


End file.
